


Until the stars rain down from the heavens

by Percilout



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, additional tags will be added throughout the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percilout/pseuds/Percilout
Summary: Alastair saves himself by closing himself off. His plan sadly begins to crumble when he joins Kingsman.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's the 20th of May a.k.a. James Spencer's birthday and here I am with the first chapter of my first Percilot story.  
> I hope you'll at least find it acceptable.
> 
>  
> 
> Title and other things slightly stolen from C.S.Lewis  
> Many thanks to @Ottermidnight and other friends <3

**Chapter One**

 

  1. January 1993



"Alastair?"

"Yes, mother?" He looked up from the homework he was currently doing, looking at the woman standing directly in front of him.

"Would you mind looking after your sister today? I've been called to an urgent meeting that I cannot miss."

She looked apologetic, although he could see the stress in her eyes.

"Yes, of course I can." He smiled at her, not wanting his mother to feel bad about leaving again. She had to do that a lot and didn't seem to understand that Alastair did not have anything against it. They loved each other and she still had enough time for her family.

His father having to also work a lot was probably what made it harder for her. She had just given birth to a second child a few months prior but had to leave again because she could not stay away from work for too long.

Alastair finished his Biology homework in the living room after she had left the house for her meeting. He stood up to put away his folders and pencils and walked up the stairs to look after his sister. The baby phone was left with him by his mother but he preferred looking after her in person.

"Hello Rox, how are you today? It would be great if you didn't cry that much because I'll be re-reading Narnia. Thank you in advance."

Alastair was leaning on the edge of her little bed, watching her closely. He then got up and went to grab his book before he came back and lay down on the carpet next to the baby bed. The fluffy material tickled him and he rolled around to find the best position on the hard ground. He opened the book on the marked page, beginning to read about Mr. Beaver telling the Pevensies who Aslan was.

He was so immersed in the story and the way the characters were portrayed as that he found himself at the end of the book not even an hour later. His sister had woken up from her nap a few minutes ago and would soon be demanding her milk.

He stared at the blank ceiling above him and for a second, he wished he could also just step through a wardrobe and find a world no one else knew. But then, he looked back at his sister and decided that his life was a good one.

 

 

  1. February 1993



“Why don’t you invite some of your school mates over to your birthday party?”

Alastair sat stock still at the dining table, his fork slowly sinking down to his plate.

He had to work hard not to make a grimace.

“I’d rather not, Mum.”

His mother sighed and began cutting up another piece of her fried chicken.

“Allie, darling, I’m sure they’d be nice to you if you just made a bit more effort to talk to them.  They can’t be as bad as you make them seem to be.”

That would still mean they were bad, he thought to himself. 

“Your mother is right, why don’t you at least try to interact with them?” his father added to the conversation.

He leaned back in his seat, slowly looking from his father to his mother and then to his little sister. Roxy was sitting in here high stool, gnawing on one of her tiny hands. He wished she wouldn’t have these problems when she was older, she certainly wouldn’t deserve them.

“I just don’t like the things they consider fun and they don’t like that I prefer to read books instead of also doing the things they do.”

He did not tell them about the taunting comments he had to endure, all the rumours which were spreading around in his classes, about his family hating him or him being gay or about shady activities he was supposed to be doing on the weekends. What he absolutely could not tell anyone was that one of those things was true. So, protect himself, he didn’t befriend any of the other boys in his school. He would be going to university in a few months, anyway, so he also didn’t care much about it.

His parents still looked equally uncertain and as if they were searching for other arguments to invite his school mates to his birthday.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be the only person my age. I’ll invite Brian over. You should know him, he’s in both my gymnastics and Archery club.”

Their expressions changed to relieved ones and he could finally relax again.

“He’s a great young man, Allie. I’m glad you get along with him so well.”

Alistair gave his mother a smile and started eating the rest of his now cold dinner.

 

 

  1. February 1993



Alastair was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fumbling with his shirt.

In twenty minutes, his whole family would get together for his eighteenth birthday.

With his hands starting to shake a bit, he closed the cuffs of his white button-up. It was not as if he didn’t like his family, but they only ever saw each other on special occasions and he just couldn’t stand all of the questions they would surely ask him. The “How are you?”’s , the “What will you do after graduation?” questions and the people asking if he had a girlfriend yet. 

On the one hand, he wished he could just tell them why he didn’t have one, but on the other hand, he knew that it wasn’t really a good idea. 

A minute later, he could hear the bell ringing and he ran down the stairs, knowing who it was going to be. 

“I’ll open the door!” he called out, so that his parents knew they wouldn’t have to get up for it.

He quickly turned the door knob and saw Brian standing in front of him, who promptly took him into a bear hug.

“AL! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”, he shouted directly into his ear.

Alastair began to squirm but could not get out of his grasp.

“No, I won’t let go. You’re finally eighteen, you’ll have to endure this one”, he told him before letting go nevertheless.

He gave Brian a small smile and led him to the living room, where his parents were currently sitting.

“Hello Mister and Misses Morton. Nice to see you”, Brian greeted them, extending his hand for them to shake. 

Alastair was standing in the middle of the room, feeling a bit awkward.

“We’ll go upstairs until the others arrive.”

He grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him into his room, taking a deep breath after letting himself fall onto his bed.

“You seriously need to calm down, Al. Don’t act like you’ll come out to your whole family today.”

“I wouldn’t be nearly as calm as I am right now if I actually intended to do that, Brian.”

He sighed, stretching his arms out over his head. 

Then, he quickly sat up, looking directly into Brian’s face. His friend was startled by that and nearly fell off the chair he was sitting on. In an impressive act of holding onto the chair and propping himself up on the floor, he managed not to smash into the ground. 

“God, Alastair, what was that? Please tell me you have a good reason for scaring me like that.”

Brian was rubbing at his slightly hurting hand and looked at him with a somewhat worried expression. There was a silence stretching on for a few seconds until Alastair blurted out: "Lucy."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll have to be brave and do what I need to do, just like Lucy."

Feeling perplexed, he sat back down on his chair.

"Are you talking about Narnia again?"

"Yes", he grinned.

"You're so strange. Good for you that I'm strange, too. You know, I actually only know one guy who's stranger than us, I'll introduce you to him sometime. Although, he would make you freak out, so maybe that isn't that good of an idea."

"Whatever, we should get down, my relatives will be arriving-" He was interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing for the second time that day and Roxy starting to cry.

"-soon." 

 

 

  1. February 1993, part 2



"Al, not to sound rude, but why are you so dressed up? I only ever see you in jeans and a t-shirt."

Most of his relatives and family friends had already arrived and Alastair grew more fidgety with every passing minute. He looked over to Brian, playing with the hem of his jacket.

"I like looking decent when there's nothing but chaos going on in my mind."

Brian frowned at that, looking him up and down. For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.

Brian, of course, already knew that but hearing it said out loud concerned him even more.

Both of them were standing in the hallway between the front door and the living room, waiting for the last guests to arrive and watching the children play with their toys.

A few minutes later, the bell rang for the last time and they were warmly greeted by Alastair’s maternal grandparents.

“Alastair, it’s so good to see you again. I haven’t seen you in ages!”, his grandmother exclaimed. 

“Of course it’s hard to meet frequently because we moved away again but I still wish we could see each other more often.” She sighed and looked up to the ceiling above them.

“Tell me, how are you? Have you had time to improve your German?”, she suddenly asked him.

“Ja, Oma, mir geht’s gut”, he replied. 

Alastair really loved all of his family but he was relieved when his grandfather took her by the hand to go see their daughter and their other grandchild - he hated catching up with people.

“Come on, you can’t miss your own birthday party”, Brian then told him and they followed them into the big living room. 

It all went well for about two hours.

They had eaten cake, his relatives from his father’s side and the ones from his mother’s side had got to know each other and it was generally very pleasing.

But then, fate decided not to be on his side, as one of his aunts asked if they were to meet his girlfriend that day.

Alastair stopped breathing for a second. Of course his entire family had heard the question and they were looking at him expectantly, waiting for the answer they hoped for. Although he had prepared an answer for that exact question, he didn’t know what to say. So he stood there, stock-still, like a deer caught in the headlights. He felt the anxiety rise up in his body – it stuck in his throat and he couldn’t say anything.

Fortunately, Brian was there to save him from his misery.

“Nooo, those girls in school are definitely not good enough for him - too stupid for their own lives. And he’ll soon leave for university anyway, so that’s just not worth it at all.”

Alastair shot him a grateful look from the corner of his eye whilst his family nodded in understanding.

“What a shame that you can’t find a suitable girl for yourself”, a friend of his mother said, “You’re such a charming young man. The girls should stand in line for you.”

The others all nodded in agreement and only he and Brian were left feeling uncomfortable in that situation. Luckily, the conversation quickly took another turn and they could relax again.

 

 

  1. February 1993, part 3



The rest of the day seemed to pass fairly quickly and as the chatter died down, the first guests had to leave. Although it made him feel horrible, Alastair was glad that they were gone. He had gotten more and more nervous every time the topic had changed and he didn’t want to talk at all anymore.

His friend had to steer the conversations away from sensitive subjects too often already and he felt like an anxious mess, unable to form any coherent words.

As the last of the guests left, he closed the door and leaned back against it. Again taking a deep breath, he walked back into the living room, where his family and Brian were sitting.

He took Roxy from his mother’s lap and sat down beside his friend. His little sister had been a comfort for him since she was born and he immediately felt calmer as he held her in his arms.

Brian seemed to sense that he was still feeling uncomfortable and asked if he wanted to go into his room. All Alastair could do was to nod and stand up. He told his parents that he would put Roxy to sleep and left the room. 

Upstairs, he lay her down in her bed and tucked her in, waiting for a few more minutes until she finally fell asleep. Alastair turned around to see Brian standing in the doorway who looked at him with a slightly concerned expression. But he still did not say anything and just walked into Alastair’s room.

They found themselves in the same positions they were in earlier that day, with Alastair lying on his bed and Brian sitting on the black office chair.

“You need to talk to someone.”

The sudden remark made him look away from the blank spot on the ceiling he was focused on.

“What do you mean?” He looked at him for a moment, quickly looking away again when he felt like his friend’s eyes were staring directly into his soul. It made him feel even more irritated than he already was.

“I mean that you can’t nearly have a panic attack every time someone even mentions something related to your sexuality or looks at you at a different angle than you are used to. I mean that you need someone to talk about your problems with. I mean that you can’t suppress your feelings and I mean that you really need a boyfriend because you’re a hopeless romantic and really desperate.”

Alastair scowled at him, sitting up and leaning onto the wall at the corner of his bed.

“I’m not desperate and who should I talk to? I’m already talking to you, isn’t that enough?”

Brian shook his head. He sighed and lay his hand over his face.

“I don’t count”, he mumbled through his fingers, “We’ve known each other for a few years now and you’ve only told me about your problems because we’re sharing most of them.”

“So? What’s your point?” Alastair couldn’t help but feel absolutely confused. 

“You need to tell another friend, someone you love, about them and you definitely need to come out to someone. You need to see that there’s nothing wrong with being out of the closet.”

Both of them were quiet for a moment, delving in their thoughts.

“’Of course, he remembered, as every sensible person does, that you should never shut yourself up in a wardrobe.’”

Brian squinted at him in confusion until it crossed his mind.

“Let me guess, that’s from Narnia? Al, you really need to stop quoting those stories, no one gets it anyway. What do you even mean?”

He let out a sigh before he started to explain.

“I don’t  _want_  to stay in the closet because, frankly, that’s stupid. It’s just-“, he turned his head away, worrying his lip. He looked at his clasped hands, thinking about what he was going to say.

“I don’t know how to get out of it alive.”

He closed his eyes as he noticed that his hands were starting to shake.

“I know it doesn’t make much sense, but I’m afraid of my family rejecting me because of it. I don’t think I’d survive that.”

Alastair opened his eyes again and glanced at his friend. For the first time, Brian looked like he truly  _understood_  what he wanted to say. His expression didn’t show pity, though - it showed pure empathy. He had once felt that way, too.

Brian stood up and took something out of the backpack he had left lying on the ground earlier.

It was a square package, packed up in red wrapping paper with Mickey Mouse on it.

“Happy Birthday. Don’t open it until I’m gone.”

Alastair then sat there with his present in hands, a bit dumbfounded, while Brian took his belongings and went downstairs to say goodbye to his parents. He was nearly out of the door already when Alastair shouted a thank you from the other end of the staircase and Brian took a step back into the house.

“I know I said I wouldn’t buy you anything but I thought you’d like it.”

With those words, he left and Alastair went back into his room to open the present.

He ripped open the paper and a black box appeared. After he opened that box, he was left completely speechless. He stood in front of his desk, his mouth hanging open. What he saw was a watch – an  _expensive_  looking watch. And Brian had been right, he liked it. How couldn’t he like such a beautiful watch?

He immediately turned on his computer and wrote Brian an e-mail:

 

_Thanks, I really love it._

_But you’re not allowed to give me a present ever again._

_That’s far too fancy and freaking expensive!_

_You can’t just give me such a present when I asked for a simple book._

_How can I ever make up for that??_

_-A.M._

 

The e-mail was sent as his head hit the desk with a thud.

He glanced back at the watch lying next to him and his only thought was that Brian had been right, he really needed to find other friends - friends who weren’t as crazy as Brian was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

 

  1. July 1993



After training had ended, Alastair changed and left the building as fast as he could. He walked in the direction of the next tube station when Brian suddenly came running up to him as he had nearly been there.

“Hey, Al, wait a second! We haven’t even seen each other since your birthday. Let’s at least talk a bit.”

He didn’t wait but slowed his pace down a little.

“Why do you sound like that’s my fault when you were the one who broke his arm and didn’t come to training anymore? Also, you could have mailed me if you really wanted to talk.”

But he didn’t get an answer because they arrived at the station and took out their Oyster cards to get to the platform. They stood there, waiting for the next train, when he resumed the conversation. 

“Yeah, well, I thought we could do something after training today but then you just disappeared directly afterwards.”

Brian must have had to actually sprint to get to him because he was still trying to catch his breath.

“As much as I would actually like to, I’ll have to look after Roxy today.”

Alastair had already been in the process of making an apologetic face when Brian said that he would just come along with him.

“Plus, I also haven’t seen Roxy since your party and I’m sure she’s grown a lot. How old is she now?”

The tube arrived and they got on the wagon while he answered his question.

“She’s nearly 10 months, now. It’s crazy to see how fast she’s growing up.”

Brian glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes and laughed.

“You just sounded like you were her actual father.”

“Well, you know that our parents aren’t there much, so I do have to care for her most of the time. I’m glad my mother can do some of her work at home so she can stay with Rox when I have training. I genuinely don’t know what I would do otherwise.”

The rest of the way to his house was spent in relative silence. Brian was well aware that Alastair preferred not to talk most of the time and he had known him long enough to know that any additional remark could make him feel uneasy. He still didn’t know what exactly it was that made him behave that way but he also didn’t exactly dare to ask him about it.

When they reached the house, Alastair’s mother was already throwing on her shoes and jacket, ready to leave at any minute.

“Brian, hello darling, I didn’t expect you here. How is your arm doing? Allie said you’d had quite a bad injury.”

“It’s healed up again and I’m fine, too. Thank you, Misses Morton.”

He beamed at her, as if she didn’t already love him.

“I’ll have to leave now, you two. Dinner is in the microwave if you’re hungry.”

Alastair quickly kissed his mother goodbye and they went to check up with Roxy first.

She was lying in her little bed, drooling on her Winnie the Pooh pillow.

He then grabbed his and Brian’s sports bags and left them in the corner of his room.

“What have you been up to the last few months, Al?” he asked while they walked back downstairs and into the kitchen.

“I guess not much else than you, seeing as we both had much work to do for our last few school months,” Alastair shrugged.

They reheated the lasagna his mother had made and sat down at the table.

“By the way, there is something I have to tell you.”

Alastair looked up from his plate where he had just stabbed his fork into the meal.

He frowned at the other boy sitting opposite him.

“Those words sound far too important, coming out of your mouth.”

“That’s because it actually is quite important. I know I should have told you before but…”

He trailed off, looking anywhere but at Alastair. Then, he seemed to pull himself together again.

“Okay, for once, I’m going to be straight with you. I got accepted to a really good University in the north that I’ve had my eyes on for a while now. I’ll have to leave London in two weeks.”

It was silent for a moment, only the ticking of the clock could be heard.

“Congratulations! I mean, I will certainly miss you but that sounds like a great opportunity for you.”

Although Alastair smiled, Brian could see that he was afraid. It showed in his slightly trembling hand which he immediately curled up into a fist. Nevertheless, he didn’t doubt that he also felt happy for him. He knew that it would be hard for Alastair to make new friends, especially ones who understood him.

“Thanks. I’d really like it if you could join me at the train station when I have to leave. I’m sure it’ll be all emotional and everyone will be sobbing.”

Alastair made a face at that but he just grinned at him and told him to eat before his dinner would get cold again.

 

 

  1. July 1993



It was a Saturday morning at 9 a.m. and Alastair was running around the train station, trying to find his friend. His bus had been delayed and he had to hurry to get to Brian before he had to leave. Finally, he saw him standing in the middle of a large group consisting of his family and some of his other friends.

“Al, come here!” Brian shouted as he saw him walking towards himself.

“Can’t leave London without saying bye to my favourite book lover.”

He grinned, spread his arms wide open and enveloped Alastair in a tight hug.

“It would be kind if you didn’t make me suffocate, Brian.”

He loosened his grip on him but before he let go he said, “You’ll better make some friends at uni because I don’t know when we can see each other again.”

Then, he let his arms fall to his sides and turned around to hug his crying mother.

Alastair just stood there, not knowing what to do or say. He started to shift from one foot to the other and his right thumbnail scratched slightly on his other hand.

If Alastair was completely honest with himself, he was more affected by Brian’s departure than he wanted to admit. He had been his only real friend for a long time and even though they weren’t exactly close, they got to know each other quite well over time.

After Brian had entered the train and it had taken off with him waving through the small windows, his family and friends waving back at him, Alastair sighed and began his way back home.

The situation left him with a lot of thoughts to consider.

Brian had been right, he really needed to make new friends. 

 

 

  1. July 1993, part 2



When Alastair unlocked the front door, he was greeted by the sight of Roxy crawling through the corridor. As the little girl saw him, she sat down and made grabbing motions at him.

“Hello, Roxy. Yes, I’m back again. Glad to see you already missed me,” he said while taking his shoes off.

Then, he lifted her up and walked into the living room where he saw his mother writing down a work report. When she heard them coming in, she looked up and smiled at them.

“Darling, how did it go? Did the train leave on time?” she asked, looking at him curiously.

“It was okay and yes, it did,” was the answer she received before he went on a search for his favourite chocolate.

“That’s nice to hear.”

There was a pause during which he found the packet of chocolates and took it with his left hand, still holding Roxy on his other arm.

“By the way, your father will return from his business trip today.”

Alastair was taken aback by that and stared at her for a second.

“I thought he wouldn’t come back until next Friday. Did something happen?”

“Oh, nothing important. He told me that some of their conferences were cut short or cancelled,” she explained while she continued to write her report.

Alastair stayed there standing on the side of the room for half a minute - confused about his father returning but also happy about it – until his sister decided it was a good idea to smash her fist into his face. His glasses went flying and Roxy giggled at the grimace he made.

“I already know you’ll be destroying everyone’s hearts when you grow up. No one can be this ruthless without being a complete heartbreaker,” he whispered as he picked up his glasses from the floor.

However, he couldn’t put them on again as Roxy stole them out of his hand immediately. He sighed and began his walk to her room.

“You should pray for us to survive this dangerous attempt at finding our way nearly sightless.”

Although he nearly stumbled over the last two steps of the staircase, he managed to get them up safely.

Roxy was let down on the carpet and she crawled directly into the corner where her toys were strewn out. Alastair closed the door to quickly go to the bathroom and grab some books from his shelf. 

When he came back, she was smashing two wooden blocks against each other and squeaked with delight. He opted to sit down beside her and held the books up in front of her.

“Which one should I read to you?”

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t get an answer to his question, so he just opened the one in his right hand.

“I think you’d like this one. It’s about a very intelligent girl called Matilda.”

While Roxy was still banging her blocks together, he read the entire first chapter and went on to the second one. As he began to read it, Roxy stopped what she had been doing and seemed to start listening to him.

 

_“Matilda’s parents owned quite a nice house with three bedrooms upstairs, while on the ground floor there was a dining-room and a living-room and a kitchen. Her father was a dealer in second-hand cars and it seemed he did pretty well at it._

_“Sawdust,”  he would say proudly, “is one of the great secrets of my success. And it costs me nothing. I get it free from the sawmill.”_

_“What do you use it for?”  Matilda asked him._

_“Ha!”  the father said. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”_

_“I don’t see how sawdust can help you to sell second-hand cars, Daddy.”_

_“That’s because you’re an ignorant little twit,” the father said._

 

Alastair looked up from the page and regarded his sister. He thought about how lucky they were to have such great parents who loved them and treated their children like actual human beings.

Just the thought of Roxy being treated like Matilda already made him feel queasy. 

 

  1. September 1993



It was 7 o'clock in the morning and Alastair was trying to feed his little sister. Despite numerous attempts at getting some food into her, she was being whiny that day and didn't accept anything.

Finally, he heaved a heavy sigh and gave up completely.

"Roxy, you need to eat at least a bit."

"No!" she refused and shook her head vehemently.

He heaved an even heavier sigh and lifted her out of her chair.

“Well, let’s go play a bit, then.”

He carried her into the living room and set her down on the big carpet, while he sat down in an armchair. Immediately, Roxy crawled towards him pulled herself up on his leg.

“Do you want to practice walking, Rox?” he asked, giving her a bright smiled.

She didn’t respond but he stood up nevertheless and took her by her tiny hands. Roxy was still quite wobbly on foot and she swayed back and forth a bit, but Alastair kept her from falling over.

With every step she took, they came nearer to the staircase and when they arrived, he picked her up again and ascended them.

“Mum? Dad? I’ll have to leave Roxy with you now.”

His parents stepped out of their room and he handed her over to their father.

“Good luck with your first day at university, darling,” his mother said, enveloping him in a tight hug. “I’m sure it will be great.”

His father nodded at that and added, “I made some very good friends at university. Let’s hope you’ll also find a few people to spend your time with.” 

Alastair hoped with his entire being that what his father had said would become true. He didn’t want to disappoint his parents and he himself wasn’t too keen on being alone all the time, either.

“I’m sure it will all go well.” He felt like he was trying to convince himself rather than them, but he didn’t have enough time to think about that anymore. He grabbed his bag, said goodbye and left go get to the tube.

The next few years were going to be hard and he knew it.

 

  1. December 1993



They were sitting in the lecture hall, the professor droning on and on about something very uninteresting that wasn’t even in the curriculum, and most of them were thinking about what they still had to get for Christmas. 

Everyone but Alastair, who was so bored that he had decided to just read the chapters that were actually part of their current topic. But he was greatly disturbed when the person always sitting next to him asked what he was going to do during the Christmas break.

“I’ll spend Christmas with my family, probably followed by a few days we’ll spend with different family friends.”

His first few months hadn’t been as great as his parents had wanted them to be, but Alastair actually got along with the girl beside him and talked to her ever so often, especially when a certain professor was drifting away from their subject again.

“That’s nice, my holiday’s gonna be very boring this year. All my friends don’t have any time at all and there’s only Christmas day that I’ll spend with family,” she told him.

“Oh, by the way, how’s that sister of yours doing? The pictures of her you showed me were so cute, I’d try to steal her if I could.” Her expression switched to an excited one as she said that. No one was able to resist Roxy yet and Emilia would apparently not be the first person to destroy that statistic.

“She’s fine. The cold is just leaving her sniffling a bit, so we will perhaps leave her at our grandmother’s when we visit those family friends.”

They were interrupted by the sight of the other students around them packing their things and he jumped out of his seat to do the same.

“Excuse me, but I’ll have to leave now. I must look after her this afternoon. I’ll see you after the break.”

And with that, he sprinted through the corridors to get to the next tube station.

 

  1. December 1993



 

It was freezing outside when his family, without the youngest addition to it, walked out of his grandmother’s home. They scrambled into the car and immediately turned the heat up. Alastair was sitting in the back, rubbing his hands and wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck.

"Elisabeth told me that she would prepare a strawberry cake for you, darling. You know how much she loves making your favourite food for you," his mother said as his father started the engine. 

“That’s very nice of her.”

The heating finally started to come to life as they took the first turn on their way.

“We haven’t seen her in so long. Her children must have grown a lot since then. It’s a shame we couldn’t bring Roxanne with us,” his father added with a slightly rueful smile, “But we couldn’t have changed anything about it, right?”

He nodded at that.

“It’s better for her to stay at home with grandma.”

They fell into a silence while Alastair watched the windows steam up from the warmth inside the car.

He leaned against the door and watched the trees and houses they drove by.

There were a few children he could see playing in the gardens, building snowmen with their siblings.

Everything seemed perfect, until his father took a left turn and he could hear himself scream, “DAD, STOP!”

He saw him slamming his foot down on the brake, turning the steering wheel as fast as he could, as someone ran up to the child standing on the street, grabbed its arm and pulled it away.

His father tried to keep control over the car but the icy ground only served to further speed it up and the last thing he saw before he felt the pull of the seat belt was a wall appearing directly in front of them.

 

  1. December 1993, part 2



He heard people shouting around him and felt someone pulling him out of the seat.

His head hurt and he could barely open his eyes.

“W-what?” he groaned quietly.

“At least he’s definitely alive, we’ll need to try getting his parents out of there,” he heard a man say.

He got carried away a few meters.

“The couple looks really bad off.”

“Do you think they’ll survive it?”

He wanted to sit up but someone pushed him down again.

“You need to stay lying on the ground, the ambulances will be here very soon,” a young man about his age told him. He looked him in the eyes for a second and lay himself back down again.

“Shit, we need to try to reanimate them.”  
“Get the children away from the windows, this is disturbing.”

“That poor boy…”

He heard the voices but didn’t exactly grasp the meaning of what they said. His head still felt like it might explode if he thought too much about what something meant.

Shortly thereafter, he could hear sirens that made him grimace. Then, there were more people surrounding him. He was picked up by paramedics and brought into one of the ambulances.

From the corner of his eyes he could see the rest of them gathering around his parents, quickly lifting them onto the stretchers.

There was blood on them - a lot more blood than he had thought could leave a human body after a crash. He closed his eyes and drifted off.

 

  1. December 1993, part 3



Soon after, he woke up in a hospital bed, feeling slightly disoriented.

A nurse entered the room and he tried to focus on her, but felt too miserable for that.

“It’s good to see you awake, Mr. Morton. How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts,” he slurred.

“You appear to have a minor concussion, a headache is a normal symptom for that. It should stop hurting in a few days.”

“What happened?” he asked.

“The car you were in crashed into a wall after the driver had abruptly swerved it and lost control of it. You were left with only a mild concussion but the other two passengers were fatally injured, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.”

It wasn’t the reaction he had seen himself give when getting to know that his parents had died. He had thought that he would start to cry but he was just so _speechless_. He didn’t even know what to think. The nurse’s expression was so emphatic.

He blinked – once, twice, a third time.

“When will I be able to leave?”

The question didn’t feel appropriate but he couldn’t bring himself to say something that made him seem _sad_ , because he just wasn’t.

“Tomorrow. Your grandmother was contacted and will pick you up from here.”

“Okay.”

The nurse checked his vitals and went to look after the other patients and Alastair was left with the feeling of emptiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the second chapter, I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Third chapter will hopefully follow soon.
> 
> Love,  
> Percilout
> 
>  
> 
> Excerpt is from Matilda by Roald Dahl


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 

  1. December 1993



Alastair had been lying awake most of the night, thinking about what the nurse had told him. He knew that his body wouldn’t thank him for that but he’d been too restless for sleep. The smell of the sterile hospital environment and the awful flashbacks he got whenever he drifted off had been keeping him looking at the bright ceiling.

He could remember the seat belt taking his breath away and someone’s eyes staring into his own, looking so compassionate. He saw his parents bleeding, the image boring into his skull. A young boy had stood on the street.

He couldn’t get rid of those scenes in his head.

Someone knocked on his door and before he could say anything, his grandmother and Roxy were coming in. She looked heartbroken and he sat up to envelop her in a hug. She had lost her son just one day ago but managed to calm herself down quickly.

“Do you want to move in with me for now, my love?”

He nodded against her shoulder.

“That’s very nice. Come, we should leave this place.”

He changed into the clothes his grandmother had brought him and they left the hospital to get to the car. Alastair felt like he should be afraid to be in one again but he was glad that that wasn’t the case.

The ride left him thinking about how grateful he was that Roxy hadn’t been with them the day before. He didn’t know what he would have done had she gotten hurt. He took her tiny hand into his own and didn’t let go until they arrived at his grandmother’s.

The house looked just like it always did but seeing it now somehow felt so different for him.

They had thought that they would pick Roxy up again in the evening but they naturally couldn’t. He didn’t quite like being there but he guessed it would be better than going back home, where there were traces of their parents on every surface.

He unfastened Roxy’s seat belt and carried her out of the car.

After they had entered the house, Alastair sat down on the sofa, firmly holding his sister between his arms, while his grandmother settled herself in her favourite armchair.

“I have made the guest room ready for you. We can fetch your belongings tomorrow if that’s okay for you, my dear.”

She was trying to give him a smile but it looked broken. He returned a smile but it didn’t feel right so he let it go and just nodded. They didn’t talk about what had happened, just sat opposite each other, in quiet understanding. They knew that any effort in comforting the other wouldn’t work much - they were too alike for that.

Eventually, Alastair stood up and dropped his sister in their grandmother’s lap. He went to the room that had been his for quite a lot of days when he had been younger. It wasn’t really used as a guest room, so the walls were still covered with paintings he had done back then.

As he lay down on the bed, it finally struck him that his parents wouldn’t come back. It had taken him a full day of thinking, but what had made him completely realise it were those paintings he had made with his mother. He wouldn’t ever be able to draw with her, wouldn’t be able to listen to his father’s stories, wouldn’t see them smile at him anymore.

He sensed the world around him go eerily quiet. It was like he had lost part of his purpose in life. It was like nothing was ever going to happen again.

His anxiety flared up with a sudden spark and tears were rolling down his face all at once. He muffled a sob with his right hand and curled up on himself.

Quite shocked, he noticed that he had done so much to make his parents smile, to help them, just to show them his love. He decided that he would focus that same love on Roxy now. If she had to grow up without her parents, she should at least have a loving brother who would do anything for her.

 

  1. December 1993



As he woke up the next day, he was still fully clothed. He had laid in bed the entire last day, thinking about the things that would inevitably change in his life. His anxiety hadn’t ceased and he hadn’t dared to leave his room, even when he had known that the others had gone to bed. He felt unreasonably pathetic.

He sat up and looked through the window. All he could see was greyness – he thought it was quite fitting to his mood. He took a deep breath and stood up to take a shower. Fortunately, he had still kept some clothes at his grandmother’s house, so he wouldn’t have to change into the ones he had worn the entire day and night.

In the shower, he mainly just stood there, leaning against the wall and looking at the white tiles, until the water grew too cold and he had to get out.

He could hear that the other two were already awake and tried to look as presentable as you could when you had cried under your covers for hours.

_This doesn’t work_ , he thought, seeing as his eyes were still a bit red and puffy. So he just left the bathroom and accepted his fate. He didn’t even know why he was afraid of it at all, no one would see him except for his grandmother.

But  when he saw her and Roxy eating their breakfast, he remembered why. It was what he had thought about at the beginning - Roxy would need him and he needed to be strong for her.

But he knew that for that to work, he needed to save himself first. He didn’t quite understand why he knew that, but he promised to start doing so the next day, after they had brought all the important things to their new home.

He kissed the two at the table on their cheeks and sat down himself, also starting to eat.

 

  1. December 1993, part 2



He unlocked the door to the house he’d called his home for eighteen years of his life. It was strange to see his parents’ belongings, knowing that they’d never use them anymore. It was stranger that it nevertheless felt like home. Although it’s only been two days, he thought that something should have changed, but everything was still the same - of course it was still the same.

 He saw Roxy going into the living room, holding onto some furniture that was on her way so she wouldn’t fall.

“Will you pack your things while I look after Roxy? We can pack her clothes and toys together after you’re finished.”

“Yes, that sounds good.”  
Alastair nodded and walked to his room. At the first moment, he just stood there and looked at all the things scattered around. Then, he gathered everything that was somehow important to him or was needed for university and put those things into his backpack and sport’s bag. When he was finished with that, he got a suitcase for his clothes.

After a few minutes, he had everything essential in those three bags. Again, he stood in the middle of his room, looking around, trying to find anything he had missed. He remembered the watch Brian had given him and quickly took it out of his nightstand.

As he was completely finished, Alastair hoisted his luggage downstairs. There, he could see Roxy playing with a teddy bear, their grandmother watching her with a big smile on her face.

He sat down beside his grandmother and decided that he would just watch her, too.

A minute later, Roxy abandoned her bear and stood up. She walked over to them and steadied herself on Alastair’s legs.

“Allie! Mama? Papa?”

Their faces fell as she looked at them with her big eyes and asked for her parents.

“No, they aren’t here anymore,” Alastair nearly whispered.

Hearing the word ‘No’, she scrunched up her nose and repeated, “Mama. Papa.”

Alastair shook his head, to which Roxy responded with starting to whine. However, he just grabbed the girl that was close to crying under her arms and sat her down on his lap, hugging her to his chest.

“Shhh, it will be alright. Everything will be fine,” he muttered into her ear.

He felt his sister’s fast breaths slowly subside as his grandmother enveloped them in her arms.

He hoped that his own life would be fine, too.

 

  1. December 1993



It was nearly noon and the sun shone through the thick clouds for once, lighting up the living room.

As Alastair sat there, a very uninteresting series running on the telly, he thought about the things that had to change. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to make even more time for Roxy because his grandmother offered to look after her during the time she wasn’t in kindergarten. He also didn’t have to worry about her being taken away, because their grandmother had already been her legal guardian due to their parents being away so often.

What he was worried about was he himself. He had noticed that his anxiety had grown immensely just in the last few days, as it would normally only do in situations where he was confronted with people he felt were judging his every move.

And although he had realised that his parents had died, it didn’t feel real. He had noticed how he sometimes thought that their car was approaching the house until he remembered that it was impossible.

Alastair looked down at his hands, taking deep breaths and holding back the tears that were constantly threatening to fall. He needed to be composed, needed to have control of himself.

Earlier on, he had asked himself what he could do to achieve that. The only answer he found was that he had to cut off ties. It was essential that he focused on his own life and the rest of his family. He didn’t think he could afford to lose anyone else he loved or even only liked, especially when it was something mutual.

There weren’t many people he would call his friends but a few months at university had given him a handful he could talk to. It did pain him a little that he had to separate himself from them but he didn’t think he had any other options.

A thought of Brian suddenly appeared in his mind. Alastair had nearly driven him away from him, back when they had only known each other for a few weeks, by glaring at him every time Brian had tried to talk to him.

He didn’t actually want the people at university to hate him, only to not like him anymore. He knew that it would be difficult but he also knew that it would work. And if not, he would just glare at them and his problems were solved.

 

  1. January 1994



_"I like looking decent when there's nothing but chaos going on in my mind."_

He remembered saying this to Brian once and decided to dress as good as he could without looking too overdressed - jeans, a white shirt, his hair combed neatly to the side, the watch Brian had given him. It did make him feel better, slightly more protected.

He brought Roxy to kindergarten and made his way to his first day of university after the break.

“Good morning, Alastair. How have your holidays been?” he was greeted by Emilia.

He looked up from his notes, glancing at her with a somewhat cold expression, saying, “I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

Her face showed confusion and a tiny bit of hurt.

“What? Why-“

“Please, don’t,” he interrupted her.

“But...“

An icy scowl was sent in her direction. She continued to regard him for a moment, her mouth opened as if she wanted to protest, but then turned back around and didn’t try to talk to him again for the entire lecture.

As soon as it ended, he packed his things and left the lecture hall to avoid a conversation with her.

It had been easier than he had thought, not talking to her and dodging her question, although it also made him feel worse than he had thought. The rest of his day was spent with an uneasy feeling in his stomach and when his lessons were over, he immediately left the building to walk to the tube station.

The freezing temperatures outside made him shiver and walk a little faster than he would normally do. Thus, he wasn’t able to stop fast enough when the person in front of him crossed his way to avoid a mother pushing a stroller into their direction.

He had bumped into the person’s back and would have fallen had that person not turned around and caught him.

“I’m so sorry!” the person said, straightening him up again until they stood facing each other.

“Why does he look so familiar?” he thought, squinting at the young man’s eyes.

“Oh, you are the one who-,” the man trailed off, the shock evident on his face.

“I’m the one who _what_?” Alastair asked, getting more confused than he’d already been.

The man blinked but didn’t respond and Alastair felt the scowl that had appeared on his face deepen.

“You were in that crash a few days ago. Have you made it out fine?”

Alastair nodded, remembering the young man who had instructed him to lie back down. At that, the man’s expression changed to a relieved one. It soon changed again to one of concern.

“Did- did your parents..?”

This time, he shook his head.

“Oh.” His opposite’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”

He shook it a second time.

“It’s alright,” he responded, although it really wasn’t.

He looked down at his watch.

“Excuse me, I’ll have to get my sister from kindergarten now,” he told him, quickly walking away before the other could say anything else.

 

  1. January 1994



“Alastair, are you ready?” his grandmother asked through the closed door.

He straightened out his suit once again and left the room.

“Yes. We can go whenever you want to.”

“Very good. I’ll fetch Roxanne, you can already get into the car.

You should know where the keys are.”

Without hesitation, he grabbed the keys from where they rested – on a sideboard in the corridor – and sat down in the passenger’s seat.

The following ride was quite uneventful – Alastair and his grandmother were sitting in silence while Roxy babbled on about something in the backseat.

There were already some guests at the cemetery when they arrived - dressed in their black clothes, looking so sad, some of them already crying.

As they got out of the car, he felt the pitying looks of the guests on them. An eighteen year-old and a one year-old left with only their grandmother had to be quite a sight – of course not in a good way, but still.

They walked to the chapel were some other guests had already gathered. There, Alastair heard someone call his name and didn’t have time to react before he was taken into a hug by Brian.

“Why didn’t you call me, Al? I tried to get in contact with you but I didn’t have your grandma’s number.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into his friend’s shoulder.

Brian sighed, not letting him go.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

Brian chuckled a bit and said, “No, you’re not. I know you. But it’s okay to not feel fine. Just please call me the next time you’re not feeling alright.”

Alastair nodded and they let go of each other.

As soon as the last of the guests had arrived, they entered the little chapel and took their seats. The silence in there was only disturbed by sniffles and Roxy muttering something no one could understand.

Alastair was sitting between Brian and his grandmother, with Roxy sitting on her lap.

The priest arrived and took his position in front of the mourners, telling them how good the lives of the deceased had been. He talked about their happiness, their fulfilling marriage, how happy they had been with their children. Everyone raptly listened to what was said.

Alastair couldn’t look at the coffins that were right there in front of him, standing next to the priest who talked on and on. His gaze was lingering somewhere on the bench they were sitting on. Tears were burning behind his eyes and the words spoken hurt him so very much.

When the speech was finished, some men that he recognized as his father’s friends and colleagues and others he didn’t know came up to the front and lifted up the coffins, carrying them out of the chapel.

Brian pulled him up from his seat and led him out after his grandmother, following the procession. The coffins were lowered down into two graves lying directly side by side.

Alastair looked down at them, the wood of the caskets seemed to shine against the dark brown dirt surrounding them. They took a handful of dirt and tossed it into the graves, followed by colourful flowers that made an even starker contrast against the surroundings.

They left the cemetery soon after, heading to the restaurant where they would hold the wake.

His and Brian’s families were the first to arrive there, already sitting down at a table.  
“Please keep them away from me,” he whispered to Brian, his voice shaking.

“Of course, I will.”

Time went slow and the wake felt dragged out. Alastair could feel the stares directed on Roxy and himself, those sympathetic looks - he wished they would stop. His head was constantly bowed down and he only looked to his sides, where Brian, his grandmother and Roxy were sitting.

Once or twice, someone tried to come up to him but Brian had shaken his head and they had let him be, instead talking to his grandmother two seats away. He was thankful that Brian had actually done what he had asked of him – he didn’t think he would have been able to endure it all, otherwise.

When it all was over, only their two families were left at the restaurant.

“We’ll have to go now, I need to catch my train back to uni. But please call me, Alastair. I think you really need it.”

He made an acknowledging sound and the both of them hugged goodbye.

“You’ll be fine, I promise. At the very latest when you actually find someone to love,” Brian whispered into his ear, laughing softly.

Alastair hit him in the stomach for his comment but couldn’t help but smile a little.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“You know what? I genuinely think that’s what you need in a partner. Too bad we’re not each other’s type.”

That got an honest laugh out of him and a murmured, “Don’t make me laugh, I’m sad.”

“They wouldn’t want you to be sad.” Brian winked at him before turning away and getting into his parent’s car.

Alastair heaved a deep sigh and also got into the car, feeling much better than he had thought he would after that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is up and I hope you liked reading it!  
> Leave some comments and/or kudos if you want.
> 
> Love,  
> Percilout


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

 

  1. February 1994



Alastair was sitting in a café near university to get something to eat in-between two lectures.

He was watching people through the large windows when he was startled by someone abruptly sitting down on the other side of his table.

“Good morning,” the man, who he recognised as the one who had been there at the crash, said.

“Good morning..?” he answered, the confusion he felt evident in his voice.

The man stretched out his right hand while telling him, “I’m James Spencer. Nice to finally meet you formally.”

It irritated him that the man – James – just started talking to him so sudden, but he still raised his own hand to shake his. 

“Alastair Morton.”

The waitress coming along to bring James his coffee interrupted them. 

"Why-," he said, his thumb scratching its first line on the back of his left hand, "why do you want to talk to me?"

He didn't ask if he actually wanted to talk to him - the answer to that was obvious, he thought. Besides, the question seemed a bit stupid seeing as he had deliberately sat down directly in front of him.

Alastair was met by an incredulous look.

"Isn't it self-evident?" James said.

He received a plainly confused expression from Alastair and went on to explain, "I feel responsible for what happened. I would like to at least make sure you're alright."

Alastair shot him a frown, still scratching his hand underneath the small table.

"Why would you feel responsible for it? And I am fine," he emphasised.

Suddenly, the smile James seemed to have plastered on his face fell and was replaced by a mournful expression.

"Alastair, I have once been in the same situation as you are in now. Please believe me if I say that you do not look fine."

How exactly could he respond to that? He didn't want to sound rude, asking for the situation James had found himself in. But he also didn't want to disagree. He knew that James was right, so he went on to ask something different.

"You haven't answered my question, why do you feel responsible for what happened?"

James averted his eyes, crossed his legs and leant back in his chair, his arms folding over his chest.

"The child on the street, he was the neighbour's son. They were invited to our house for a late Christmas dinner. I had been outside for a moment but came back in to get something I had forgotten. I had left the doors open. The ball he had been playing with rolled away and he ran after it. You know how the rest of the story goes."

Alastair was taken aback by this revelation. He felt like he should be angry at him, like he should start shouting as loud as he could. However, he just stared at him as a sensation of utter sadness rolled over himself.

He didn't understand why he reacted like that but he then told James that it hadn't been his fault, that he couldn't have changed anything.

"There was a four year-old in our house. I could have closed the damn door," he responded with a bitter laugh.

They sat in silence until James leant forwards again and started speaking.

"I'm sorry, this is not what I wanted to talk about. My point was that you certainly do not look fine. I've seen you around university and you looked rather awful some of those times, if I'm allowed to say so."

"That was...," Alastair blinked, scratching a bit harder, "blunt."

"Yes, but that was not the whole reason for why I'm sitting here. Someone looking like crap after their parents had died is normal. So, when we first met and you said that you were alright, I thought that you would actually be okay after another few weeks.

At least I thought so until you mentioned your little sister. You looked... constricted and every time I saw you after that, you looked a bit worse, more stressed."

Hearing those words, he became speechless. He hadn't thought that anyone would notice such things about him, especially not ones he didn't notice himself.

"I know this must sound strange and I don't even know you but I am really worried about you."

Alastair felt like someone had locked him into a box. His breathing became a little strained and the pain on his hand wasn't enough anymore to drone out the feelings he tried to suppress. He didn't want this to happen, didn't want this man to care about what happened to him.

“James, it is very nice of you to worry about me, but please do not feel responsible for the crash. You couldn’t have foreseen what happened on that day. It is not your fault,” he managed to say through ragged breaths. He hoped that James didn’t notice how hard it had become for him to speak in a normal tone.

“And you don’t have to worry about what will happen to my sister or me or whatever else you worry about, because it isn’t necessary. Our grandmother is taking care of us, we aren’t alone in this.”

James looked at him wearily - it was clear that he didn’t quite believe him, but he also didn’t say anything against it.

“Please, don’t feel guilty about it,” Alastair said, standing up from his seat.

“Now, please excuse me, I have another lecture to attend. I hope you’ll have a nice day,” he told him, quickly walking out of the café, leaving the other young man sitting at the table.

 

  1. June 1994



Since the day they had talked to each other at the café, they had seen each other on campus every few days. Alastair didn’t know how that was possible, seeing as the university was huge and their buildings were relatively far apart from each other, but they still managed to cross ways fairly often.

He had seen him in the library or sitting on a bench, revising. He had also once seen him in the café again, chatting with some other students.

After a month, he had overheard that James studied Theoretical Physics while he was walking past him. A month later, he saw him while walking out of the medical school building. Confused as to what he was doing there, he nearly stumbled over the steps in front of the doors.

On that day, he was sitting on one of the benches when he saw James walking around the university grounds with a camera in his hands. He seemed to be taking pictures of the trees and buildings but also of the most unusual things he could find. All the while, there was a grin on his face and he skipped around the campus like a young kid excited for a birthday present.

Alastair was focused on his readings as he suddenly heard a click directly in front of him. Looking up, he saw straight into a camera. James’ head then appeared from behind it and the grin was directed at him for a couple of seconds before he was bouncing away once again.

It was bizarre but he grew to expect such things from James, even though they rarely exchanged any words with each other. He only knew a few things about him, which he was more than a bit glad about. His usual glaring, frowning and scowling didn’t work with James, so he took to not speaking with him and trying to avoid him as much as possible. James’ behaviour was irritating him to no end but at least he didn’t unnerve him too much.

A girl then walked up to the bench but immediately took off when he saw the scowl that had nonetheless appeared on his face. It filled him with relief to know that they wouldn’t be in danger of becoming friends –it was already bad enough that James wasn’t letting him live in peace.

 

  1. June 1994



It was just after 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning when Alastair woke up with a start.

Lately, he’d had terrible nightmares that haunted him throughout the day. He couldn’t seem to shake them off and the feeling of dread lingered on him every day. It was hard for him to keep his concentration during lectures, when the images of their crash were being replayed in his head at any given time.

Clearly, he’d had problems like that since the car crash had happened, but the nightmares were new and with them came the sleep deprivation that was constantly niggling in the back of his head, reminding him of his sleepless nights even more – the headaches he had to endure were just another reminder of what had happened.

That day, he again awoke feeling awful and plain tired.

He lay there, on his back, staring at the blank ceiling with a stony expression on his face. Everything around him felt surreal and sort of like it was untouchable. The light shining through the blinds was too bright and the air too thick – it was as if he was trapped in a completely different reality, every single contact was just _too much_ for him.

Every time he woke up like this, he stayed in bed for hours, slowly breathing in and out and trying to get his suddenly hypersensitive body under control – he had given up trying to sleep again after the fourth time it had happened to him.

Every time he woke up like this, his only comfort was that he still had to look after Roxy and that she would make him smile again. He didn’t know how he would have survived their parents’ deaths without her – it made him feel kind of pathetic. Still, he was glad that he wasn’t left completely alone.

When he heard Roxy starting to cry a few hours later, he pulled himself together enough - he locked his emotions away behind a stone-hard wall - to get up and walked over into her room. It had once been a little office but it had been rebuilt after they were certain they would live together.

“Did you have a nightmare?” he asked the distressed looking girl, concern clearly showing on his face.

Roxy buried her face in the crook of his neck, her little fists clamped into the fabric of his t-shirt. She was breathing quite fast and he gently rubbed her back to sooth her.

“Shh, let’s make you some breakfast, okay?”

Alastair didn’t get a response but her sobs had subsided so he carried her out of the room, humming her favourite lullaby to further comfort her. He prepared some bread for the both of them and sat down at the table, still holding her in his arms.

Roxy’s cries had fully receded just before they had sat down and she was perfectly happy again. She was toying with the table cloth and said, “St’awbewwy!” as she saw the jar of strawberry jam sitting on top of the table.

“Do you want jam on your bread?” he asked, to which she responded with a nod and a smile spreading on her face.

They went through breakfast together and he made the two of them ready, first bathing and dressing Roxy and then giving her to their grandmother before taking a shower himself.

Afterwards, he said goodbye to his family and left the house to go to the archery club. He had given up on gymnastics in the meantime because it had been much too time-investing and it wasn’t as much fun anymore since Brian had left. But he felt like archery was good for him and it actually helped him a lot, relieving him from all the stress he felt. Focusing on the target, holding the bow and arrow steady in his hands, slowly breathing in and out, were taking away the worries he usually had. Training was one of the rare occasions he found himself peaceful in.

 

  1. September 1994



When he came home from university that day, he was greeted by Roxy running up to him. She was wearing the red dress he had bought her that was covered in a pattern of blue flowers, her two little pigtails swinging around with each step she took.

As she saw her, all the built up stress from university and having to deal with incompetent lab partners left him and he swung her up into the air.

“Happy birthday, Rox!”

Roxy squealed as she was gliding through the air, her brother making a full turn.

Their grandmother had been watching them from inside the kitchen and was smiling brightly. She ushered them in there and made them sit down at the table where their meal was already set up.

Alastair knew that his sister wasn’t able to fully grasp what a birthday was yet, but he felt like it was more important for himself and his grandmother anyway. They hadn’t been able to be a real, happy family in a long time so they took hold of any opportunity they could get, just to feel good for a few hours again.

Roxy was ripping her spaghetti in tiny pieces rather than eating them, once even trying to throw some at the opposite wall.

The little birthday dinner was bringing them a bit of their old happiness back, although the birthday girl didn’t notice any of that. For her, it was just a regular day, except for the little party hat she had on top of her head and the piece of cake that was set in front of her.

Roxy, of course, proceeded to mush it up and smear some of it on her face, laughing with glee and infecting the others with it, too.

 

  1. December 1994



“Alastair! It’s nice to hear from you. How are you all? How is Christmas going?”

Thoughts of lying came to him, saying he was feeling great, saying that they were having a wonderful Christmas. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so and instead, he told Brian the truth.

“Uhm,” he muttered, taking a deep breath.

“We are in good health but otherwise-,“ he paused and cleared his throat, “it could be better.”

“Oh,” was the only sound coming from Brian.

Low-pitched music was playing on the radio in the kitchen and he tried breathing in and out to the slow rhythm as he was struggling to breathe at a normal pace.

After clearing his throat again, he started to speak once more, “What had happened, it- it’s starting to catch up to me. Again. It happened a year ago and-,” he took another deep breath, “the memories are hard to suppress and my grandmother also seems to feel terrible. We’re bringing us all down.”

“I’m really sorry, Alastair,” Brian responded.

“No, it’s okay. We’ve been getting better and it’s been a lot easier the last few months. It just angers me what the anniversary of it is doing to our family.”

He wasn’t lying – the nightmares had stopped just after Roxy’s birthday and the little girl had kept them in a joyful mood for the next months, their lives had improved greatly.

“Alastair?” sounded a question from the other side of the line.

“Yes?”

“Your life is still not like you want it to be but I know that it will be good. It will take a lot of time and even more patience and it will definitely hurt for a long time but eventually, it will be better than you expected it to be. Just think of Roxy, she’ll be the best, most intelligent young girl out there and you’ll be the one to have raised her. You’ll still miss your parents but there’ll be a time when you’ll be nostalgic rather than sad when you think of them. And I know you can do it, you can wait for that moment. It will get easier with every passing day and you know that yourself, too.”

There was a long pause between them, the two men thinking about what had been said.

“Brian?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“No problem. For you, always.” He could hear the little smirk in Brian’s voice.

“Shut it,” he told him, but there was no venom behind it. He knew that he meant it well.

They talked for another minute before they both had to attend their Christmas dinners again.

 

  1. July 1995



Life had been relatively quiet the past few months.

Roxy was growing up at an enormous speed and had learned so much already. Alastair couldn’t believe a child’s actually able to grow that fast.

But apart from that, the only remotely exciting thing to happen was James being in the library so often. Not only that, but James also had no apparent reason to be there at all.

Sometimes, he wandered through the aisles until he saw something that caught his sight. Other times, he walked into the library with a sort of determination, grabbed a certain book and sat right down in front of the shelf it had been in. But mostly, he saw him just taking a book and sitting down at a table near Alastair’s.

The books James read on those days didn’t look like they were even interesting him at all. The titles of them were “Universal Jurisdiction: National Courts and the Prosecution of Serious Crimes Under International Law”, “Cruden’s Complete Concordance Apocrypha” or “The Treatment of Typhoid Fever”, one of them even was in Ancient Greek – he didn’t think James knew a single word in that language, noticeable from the confused look on his face after he had opened it. Once, he actually saw him turning a book around to try and read it upside-down – that one had had the most boring title of them all, “Complete & Unabridged the Little & Ives Webster Dictionary and Home Reference Library”.

So when he saw James walking past his table that day, holding a book called “A Handbook of German Grammar” (He knew grammar was important but who would read an old book about _that_?) in his hands, he had enough of it.  
Looking up with a sigh, he told him, “You know, I certainly don’t understand why you keep reading those god-awful books but I think you could at least sit down with me to have some company.

Stopping in his tracks, James blinked at him. He didn’t say a word but still sat down at the other side of the table. They didn’t talk but he saw James starting to actually read the book, a soft smile directed at those pages.

From that day on, they automatically shared tables whenever they were in the library at the same time and James even proceeded to read some interesting books – or at least ones whose titles sounded slightly acceptable, which he was very grateful for.

 

  1. April 1996



It had been more than two years since his parents had died and more than two years since he had decided that he was better off only loving those he needed in his life.

He had mostly succeeded in doing so by ignoring the people around him. Alastair now had a reputation as ‘that weird guy without friends’ that he wasn’t proud of but was nevertheless glad about.

Except for James, who just wouldn’t stop trying to build some sort of relationship between the two of them, nobody seemed to want to talk to him. To be absolutely honest, not even James really talked to him, which was mostly because Alastair blocked off all of his attempts. He knew that his anxiety wouldn’t let him survive if they were to become friends and if something happened to him then.

It was completely ridiculous, he knew it, but he couldn’t help the icy feeling washing over him when he thought about making friends. It made his breath hitch, his body shake, his hands itch – he scratched the back of his left hand for the millionth time in his life, just underneath his watch. He couldn’t lose anyone else.

He was walking back home from his lectures when he thought about those things, trying to keep his poise while simultaneously stopping himself from walking into any lampposts.

It had gotten better than before Christmas, the conversation he’d had with his friend had indeed helped him. He couldn’t express how glad he was about that fact – their whole family had brightened up again and he felt happier than he’d had in a very long time.

Finally at their house, he opened the front door to see a man talking to his grandmother. They were seated in the living room, directly in his field of view. His grandmother’s expression was... delighted.

Confusion struck him as he heard a soft laugh coming from her, he hadn’t heard her laugh since they had left on the day of the crash. Who was that man and how did he do that?

Alastair walked into the room and they swiftly stood up from their seats.

“Darling, do you remember Christopher? He was one of your father’s friends,” his grandmother asked him, still somehow smiling.

“It is good to see you again. I was there at your eighteenth birthday and the funeral, of course. But you do not have to worry if you don’t remember me anymore,” the man himself said.

He shook Christopher’s hand, his memory providing him with the sight of a man standing in a group of his father’s friends and colleagues talking at his birthday party, and another of the same man carrying his father’s coffin.

“Yes, I do remember you,” Alastair said as they settled back down on the armchairs.

“I heard you are studying Medicine? How is it going?” Christopher asked, leaning back against the seat.

“Good. It’s challenging, but I like that.”

The smile that had already been on the man’s face quirked up a bit more as he heard his answer.

“Alastair, I have taken the liberty of speaking with your grandmother about something I am going to ask you about now.” The smile stayed on Christopher’s face but it had taken a very serious edge to it that his grandmother didn’t seem to notice.

“I have an offer for you.”  
“An offer?” he asked before he was able to further elaborate.

“Yes. A job offer, to be precise. I would like to offer you a job.” Again, the smile changed – this time he could see a sort of sparkle appear in his opposite’s eyes.

Carefully, Alastair thought about what he was going to ask next. He felt like there was something more behind it.

“What does that job consist of?” he asked, frowning a bit.

The man’s eyes showed him that it was the exactly right question.

“I would have to show you. Come along with me? Of course only if your grandma allows you to,” he said and actually had the guts to wink at his grandmother.

“I wouldn’t want him to miss a job offer, Christopher,” she answered with another small smile.

Alastair was still very confused but he also wanted to know what was going on so he nodded and followed his father’s old friend into the cab that was parked in front of their house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, our dear James' first real appearance! Yey!
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter.  
> If so, I'd be very thankful if you left a kudos and/or a comment.
> 
> Love,  
> Percilout

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Percilot will definitely happen, you'll just have to wait for it.  
> New chapters will probably have to also wait because school and other stuff is catching up to me.  
> But don't worry, Percilot is my life right now and I'll soon have vacation, this fic won't be abandoned! :)
> 
> Love, Percilout  
> (hmu @Percillout (yes, with two l's) on Twitter ;D)


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